


in another life, perhaps.

by get_glitch3d



Series: are you the devil? [2]
Category: Lucifer (Comic), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, John is bisexual, Soulmate AU, Swearing, congrats, john and you are fuckbuddy soulmates, smoking mention, the setup for a soulmate, we'll get into the whole damn thing in a lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/get_glitch3d/pseuds/get_glitch3d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You got a reply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. if you believe.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is now a soulmate fic! Groovy, right? Oh, in case you're confused, John is also your soulmate he's just not a soulmate in the conventional sense. The next chapter will have all the juicy deets. If there are any errors, I'll fix them later.

You were in your kitchen, debating whether or not to go to the store. You hadn't been behind the wheel since the car wreck, considering your SUV was completely totaled. Sure, you weren't in the driver's seat, you were on the passenger's side. Your friend though, they were. She had offered to drive. She was slumped down her seat with forehead pressed to the top of the wheel, hands loosely gripping it.

Glass was everywhere, so was blood and the smell of something burning. Oh, that smell still made your nose burn a little.

Your eyes were locked on the bus pass you had in the key-bowl and the keys, right next to them. You barely could get into a car anyway. Anytime someone offered, you politely declined and stayed home. Basically, you'd become a hermit. It was okay though. Your job was online work. Plus, you had Netflix and a lot of microwave popcorn and ramen and canned ravioli. But, damn it, you need to do this! You need to get your ass in gear and get a move on. 

You sighed. Your mom had been coming over to drop off food she had made. 

The thing that frustrated you the most was that you had no idea who saved you. You didn't know who the _hell_ pulled you from the car. You wondered why they didn't get your friend. You already knew, though. They said the person likely thought your friend was dead. 

You went to her funeral looking like hell, but at least you went. You wore a black dress, unable to cram your casted leg into pressed pants and putting on a shirt without tearing your stitches was near impossible. You had to have your mother come help you get dressed. Nothing like an accidental boob graze while your arm is in a sling.

It was a pretty decent service. You got to get up and give people some peace, then you dove headfirst into the death stuff. “Oh, why her and not me? If I could, I'd trade my life for hers. She wasn't even supposed to be driving-” That's when John forced you off the raised platform. 

You were crying, you hadn't realized that. You mascara was, thankfully, still stuck to your eyelashes. You never know with that waterproof shit, though. 

You laughed softly. “Waterproof my ass.” You said out loud. 

You clenched your jaw. You'd taken a shower, you had brushed your teeth, you had put on clean clothes – why didn't you just go out? Just step outside, take a breather? You stared at the sliding glass door to your loft apartment, the one leading out to the balcony. 

You were in a large building, up on the fifth floor. You sighed once more. Down on the ground was Georgia Street. You shook your head, deciding that you would not go out. You were about to pull off your hoodie when the callbox buzzed. 

You let out a shriek at the sudden startling sound, it echoed through your apartment. It had been a week and a few days since the accident; sometimes you could still hear the horn of the other car blaring. You'd been released after you promised you could take care of yourself. Ramen and ravioli weren't supposed to be your diet, but fuck the hospital. Whatever. They couldn't bust into your apartment and forced veggies and fruit down your throat.

The pain killers were shit, anyway. They went down easier covered in ravioli sauce and sodapop.

The buzz came again and you looked at the calender on your wall. It wasn't Wednesday, your mom wasn't supposed to be here – if it was your mom, anyway. You suddenly became paranoid. You barely talked to people as it stands, but with the accident, – _fuck!_ – you wanted to scream. You stomped over to the speaker, took a deep breath and pressed the little white button.

You wanted to be polite, you really did. But, then again, you were settling into a paranoid state and you were not in the mood for bullshit, not that you ever were.

“Who the fuck is it and why the fuck are you here?” You snapped. _That came out harsher than it should've._ You almost apologized. You took your finger off the button to listen to them. 

“Uh, I'd like to talk to you about switching internet providers. Who do you use?”

You didn't tell them. You just walked away from the speaker after eagerly telling them to go to hell. This happened two more times before you flopped on your black couch, face down with your arms at your sides. You let out a scream into the comfy cushion and kicked your feet into the armrest. You heard another buzz and huffed. You screamed again to try and block the sound but you couldn't, not really. 

You shot up, nearly hurting your back from your position, and darted to the door. You smacked your palm against the button and shouted. “What the fuck do you want? I don't want to switch internet providers! Who the fuck goes door-to-door anymore, anyway!?” You moved your hand slightly.

“Well, luv, uh – I'm not askin' you to change your internet... If you're interested in the dark arts, however, I'm your guy.”

“Jesus, John.” You said into the speaker, hitting the switch to open the door.

“Far from it.” He replied quickly, through the little box. You heard steps after a while before a knuckled-knock rapped on your door. You opened it to find John Constantine, your long time friend and alcohol cupboard raider, staring at you. He threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the elevator. “You know that thing is busted, right?” 

“Some asshole blew something up in it. They're not gonna bother fixing it.”

“Right, well, I'm not as fit as I use to be, luv. I can't just climb the stairs like they're Mount Everest.”

“Then why did you come here?” You walked to the kitchen and pulled the box of marshmallow cereal off the top shelf. “Not to get me outside, I hope.”

John eyed your for a second. “You need to go outside.”

“Bite me.”

“Oh, so now you're willing?”

You rolled your eyes and threw a handful of Lucky Charms at him. “I can't, John.”

“Can't or won't?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest. You leaned against the counter.

“Just leave.” You sighed, putting a red balloon marshmallow into your mouth, crunching it as you shuffled the contents of the box. “Please.”

It was John's turn to sigh. “(Y/N), it hasn't been that long – I get that. But, seriously, you can't stay here forever. If you don't cooperate, I can get Chas down here and have him drag you outside.”

“Chas is a sweetheart.” You told him. “He'd sit down and eat ravioli with me.”

John wasn't amused, so, he spoke more of his own language – and one you'd learn to speak over the years. “I contacted the spirit world.”

“What?” You snapped, your eyes fixing on his.

“I wanted to see who saved you, see if I could thank the gent or lady, for that matter.” 

“And?”

“You have to come outside if you want to know who.”

“That's not fair, dickweed.”

John stared at you. You closed the cereal box and set it down on the counter, walking over to the door. “Fine. But, can we stay in front of the building?”

“As long as you're comfortable _and_ we're outside, then yes. We can stay in front of the building.” 

You grabbed John's arm, walking over to the door with him. “There's a little stone bench.”

“I know, luv. I've been here plenty.” He saw your look. “Not for you. There's a pretty little blond that walks around here.” Not that you two had never dipped into the friends with benefits pot.

When you made it outside, you took a deep breath as the air hit you. It was a little colder than you thought it would be. You hugged your hoodie around yourself, breathing a little more shallowly as a car honked at another. “John, I don't-”

“Quiet.” He told you, dragging you a to the stone bench near the front door. You two sat down and you clenched and unclenched your jaw, staring at the angry L.A drivers. “Alright, brace yourself.”

“Braced.” You replied.

John chuckled. “You might not like this.”

“Spit it out.”

“(Y/N)-”

“John!”

“Lucifer.” He said quickly. You didn't even glance at him. Was this a scene from _Shrek?_

You were annoyed. “Are you pulling my leg right now? I live on Georgia Street and you're telling me the devil fuckin' saved me? Well, you are Johnny – where's your golden fiddle, huh? Did he jump up on a hickory stump and make a deal?”

“I'm not bullshitting you.” John said sincerely. “I swear.”

“Are you the best that's ever been?” You were really being an ass now. “Tell me, does the devil deal it hard?” He gave you an annoyed look. You sighed, calming down. “John, that can't be right.”

“It is.” He told you, nodding a little. “It is, I swear to G-” He paused. “I swear to who ever the hell accepts it.” 

You glanced at him. “Is he like the one from _Supernatural_?”

“No. He's too... Uh, what's the word? Deceptive.”

You shrugged. “But that's the devil.” 

“This one, he's...” John was grasping for words. “Charming?”

“Charming? He's charming? Oh, well, that just makes him so much better.” 

The sarcasm was unreal. 

You wanted to scream. You were fine with ghosts and demons and the like. Angels being dickbags and possessed spirits, fine. But Lucifer? You were raised to believe in God and, inadvertently, fight against the devil, but seriously? You weren't much of a believer anymore.

You didn't say anything else, you just stared into the street. You saw a car swerve to avoid another and you flinched back. You closed your eyes, letting yourself listen to the wind, trying to focus on it rather than the world you lived in. You felt an odd pit in your stomach as someone near you lit a cigarette. It wasn't John, he was careful not to smoke around you. Normally, he'd just light one up and not be concerned. 

After you said you had smelled something burning, he stopped. You wanted to get over this. It had been too long for you, you didn't usually mull over shit like this. When you lost your uncle, it wasn't like this, or your cousin, either. Sure, it hadn't happened that long ago but you were sick of feeling angry and hurt and upset. 

When you opened your eyes, you glanced at John. His head was down. He was rubbing his eyes. When you turned head back, someone walked past. Someone in a black suit. You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. Suddenly realizing who it was, you snapped your eyes open. 

You looked for them, seeing they'd made it down the block already. You shot up, getting John's attention quickly.

“(Y/N)?” He asked, watching you race down the street, past the honking and speeding cars on the road beside the sidewalk. You caught up to them, a little shorter than expected, and you tapped their shoulder. 

The man that you had chased down, turned around and you furrowed your eyebrows. He looked greasy, to say the least. This was not who you had expected. Some round balding guy in a black suit with a purple patterned shirt , bull tie, and a pair of black snakeskin boots. He had a cane, too. It had some silver thing in the shape of a gem on the top. It looked like a doorknob.

“Uh...” You began, watching him stare at you. He looked expectant. He wanted more than a brain fart, considering you stopped him. He looked a little confused, too. Maybe because you were a little winded. 

You didn't say anything, not quite. You made some disappointed sound, so he walked off. Had you noticed the man duck into the alley near you, just as the other man passed him but before you snapped to attention, you would've been better off. You groaned. You were hoping it was _him._

You felt someone tap your shoulder, you expected John, but when you turned, your eyes met a neck. “The fuck is you?” You blurted on accident, sounding nearly incoherent as you looked up and – _holy shit_ – a man in all black was staring down at you, a wicked grin on his face. He was awfully close for a stranger.

You stood on your toes and peeked over his broad shoulders. John was walking, quite quickly, towards you. 

“Hey, mate, back off a little, yeah?” John called out.

You felt a rise in your heart, and swallowed harshly. “Uhm.”

“Don't you have anything to say, my dear?”

You felt like you were trying to swallow a lump of coal. You wanted to cough and half expected black dust to puff out of your throat. John reached you and walked around the man. He was much taller than John, you wondered if this was the same in the ego-department. 

“Oh, my God.”

“Not quite.” His accented voice and that wicked grin were both increasingly more charming the more you gazed upon him.

You breathed deeply, and stepped back slightly. “Do I know you?”

The curve of his lips were taunting and he chuckled deeply. “I already told you.” He said. “In another life, perhaps. I don't just pull random people from car wrecks.”

You felt your heart nearly stop. Why didn't that trigger it before now? Your left hand unconsciously fell down to the front of your right thigh, possibly trying to keep you steady. 

“Are you the devil?”

He stepped back slightly and gave a sarcastic bow. “At your service – if you believe, that is.”

“You're shitting me.” John whispered from beside you. 

“Same.” You said weakly. “Lucifer is my fuckin' soulmate. What a time to alive!”

\----------------- 

“And you're sure?” John whispered to you. You both were standing in your kitchen, Lucifer Morningstar (as he introduced, said it was God-given) was in your living room. He was looking at pictures on the mantel, his fingers grazing the flimsy frames. 

“You've seen the words yourself, Johnny.” You told him softly. “I've only heard of having two soulmates as like, a back-up thing.”

“Means a lot, luv, really.” He said sarcastically.

“Well, I didn't mean it like that! Yeah, you and I are soulmates, but all we do is fuck. You screw other women, and, for that matter, men.”

“Chas initiated it!” John snapped.

You rolled your eyes. “You're being hypocritical. You have two soulmates, as do I. This isn't so bad.” You breathed. Then you gasped. “Oh, God, what if he wants to see the words?”

“Willing to have sex right away to show him?” John asked. You punched his shoulder. He winced but laughed nonetheless.

“Can he hear us? Does he have super-hearing?”

“Fuck if I know.” John shrugged. “Just show him the marks. Those are on your collarbone. They're visible.”

You tapped your foot, biting your lip nervously as you looked at your tall, dark and handsome soulmate. You wanted to, but you also wanted to scream – that doesn't mean you were going to. You cleared your throat, trying to find something to say. At least you'd gotten the important part over; actually saying the words.

“Hey, uh, Luci?” You called, getting him to turn.

“Luci?” John questioned to you, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“What? I'm testing the waters.” You dismissed, turning back to Lucifer. You were at a loss for words. “I don't know how to start this.”

“If you show me yours, I'll show you mine.” He offered, a smirk on his face. “How's that?”

John snickered beside you. The point of your elbow found his ribs in a second.


	2. i felt it, too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked guilty, you didn't mean for that to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a running theme in my soulmate AUs for there to be side effects to note banging. It causes the characters to get a move on and enter the bone zone, y'know? This chapter is a bit odd, honestly, but whatever. I said all the deets would be explained, so here. Your words on him and his on you, plus the slashes and shit. 
> 
> As usual, any typos or spacing errors will be fixed later.
> 
> Don't sweat, homies. There's definitely more story to come, just not with these two chapters. The series this is a part of has a LONG way to go. Have fun getting charmed and annoyed by Luci. :)))

You were sitting on your coffee table and staring at the words on Luci's chest. (He didn't mind the nickname, apparently.) Your soulmate was currently in front of you, seated comfortably on the black couch. 

“Anyone could've said this to you, at anytime.” You told him, bringing your hand up to touch them – except you didn't. You dropped it before your fingertips even remotely touched his skin. 

His jacket was draped over the armrest of your couch and his shirt was unbuttoned and opened. You, admittedly, wanted to climb him like a tree. He was tall... it wouldn't be that hard. 

Lucifer was watching you expectantly. “You can touch them. You are the one who said them, after all.” Your gaze flicked up to his warm eyes for a moment before you sighed. You'd already seen the two _giant_ slashes of black ink on the right side of his ribs. Your skin had them, too, of course. 

“Can I ask you something first?”

“Can you?” You glared at him. He chuckled softly, nodding. “Shoot.”

“You have to have had other soulmates.” You spoke slowly, stepping around the obvious. “Are they..?”

“Most of them, yes.” Lucifer's voice didn't waver at all. “Their marks, or words, disappeared the moment they died.” 

“I've heard it hurts.” 

“You're connected to them, of course it hurts. It's a little more dull than what they feel, but still.” He shrugged, then, possibly unsure of what else to say. He thought of John for a moment. He'd left a little while ago – 'private time for the new soulmates' and all that bullshit. “I'm sure he's gotten hurt plenty, you feel that, don't you?”

You nodded slowly. “He felt the car wreck.” 

“I felt it, too.” Lucifer said. Your gaze dropped back to his chest.

You, finally, reached forward and gently touched the words on his skin. Lucifer made a soft sound in the back of his throat when you did. Your fingers were icy compared to his warm skin. _Are you the devil?_ was effortlessly written in your handwriting. 

When you had shown him the marks on your collarbone, and the slashes on your ribs, he made a tsk sound. He had been wandering through life when a set of three, all equally dark gray, jagged marks appeared on his collarbone. That was when you'd been conceived, he knew he'd have to wait, sure – that didn't matter. 

Your fingers traced the words, creating a small, mute ticklish feeling on his skin. You still hadn't shown him the words he had said to you. You were nervous about that. He had seen John's words across your back when you pulled your shirt off to show him the giant black slashes. 

_What's a lad have to do to get a pretty lady's number around here?_

He had to admit, it sounded tacky. It wasn't at all charming and – he shouldn't be judging. Lucifer had to know you didn't care how he said it, just that he said it. Meeting your soulmate wasn't a guaranteed thing. People went decades without meeting them, likely to only meet them a week before their deaths or even a few hours. 

The universe was unforgiving. Being twenty-eight and without a soulmate wasn't how you wanted to go about life; at least you met John when you were twenty-two. Some people went on in life _without_ their soulmates, either because they had lost them or they didn't have time to search for them. You were lucky to find yours so early in life. Plus, look at the bright side, you got two handsome devils – one in the literal sense – for soulmates. 

You drew back your hand, dropping it onto your lap as Luci watched you. 

“Your turn.” He said, his voice accompanied by a singsong tone. You nervously met his eyes. 

“They're in a specific place.” You told him. He looked more excited. You sighed shakily and stood, kicking off your shoes once you were out of his way. 

“Your feet?” Lucifer question, sounding a bit confused. You shook your head. Once he noticed you removing your jeans, a grin started on his lips. You pulled off the denim and threw them to the edge of your couch, bending down to adjust your socks. They'd come down slightly when you pulled off your jeans. You stood straight and stared at him. “Well?” 

You were trying to figure out how to go about this. There was no casual way to do it. His words were on the inner portion of your right thigh. They were in a straight line and dangerously close to a spot you _really_ didn't want to introduce him to yet. 

“Do you mind if I-” You paused. “Nevermind.” You muttered, groaning softly at your awkwardness.

“Are you alright?” 

“Look, I'm gonna fuckin' straddle you because I'm pretty sure you don't want my leg on your shoulder.”

His grin was wider, now. The sexual nature of the statement nearly made you angry. The blue panties you had on shifted slightly as stepped forward and carefully straddled him. The way your body was going off – no, _absolutely not_ – you really wanted to just... fuck him. 

He tilted his head slightly, using his large hand to gently move your leg closer to him. Lucifer's long fingers trailed along your inner thigh and you looked up at the ceiling. You were biting your lip, this was almost painful. 

It was completely normal for soulmates to have sex when they first met, in fact, it was usually encouraged – as long as you were old enough to understand all the connections behind soulmate sex. The only problem was, if you didn't have sex with your soulmate after a while, you could get seriously hurt. Nosebleeds were common, so were headaches and heart issues. People were even susceptible to death. 

You took a deep breath and looked down at his left hand, the one on your inner thigh. His right hand was holding your hip, his fingers gently pressing into your skin.

 _In another life, perhaps._ was scrawled out in his handwriting. It was quite nice, too. Opposed to John's messy writing, that is.

“Have you ever had so many marks from one person?” You asked, trying to get your mind off his hand trailing dangerously close to – he answered quickly. 

“I had eight consecutive dashes in a ring around my knee, once. They were the color of the rainbow. Some girl born in the 50s, but turned hippie in the 70s. She was quite pretty... Long black hair, dark skin. She wore lots of rings.”

“Oh.”

“Her name was Aggie, she had a wonderful singing voice, she also played guitar a lot.” His voice sounded a bit weird, like recalling her was a bad idea.

“What happened to her?” You felt bad for asking. In soulmate studies, you were told that people would be stand-offish about telling you anything about previous soulmates. You weren't supposed to worry. “If you don't mind telling me.”

“It's what happens to all of them.” Lucifer sighed, his left hand dropping to his own lap. You half expected him to say it'll happen to you, too. “In different ways, of course.”

You nodded curtly, listening intently. 

“She was protesting something, and I'd just made a quick trip out of the underworld.” He told you. “Some prick drove by the courthouse she was at.”

You watched his jaw clench tightly, his standard grin was replaced with an angry scowl. 

“Shot her and everyone else outside. Protesters, cops, a couple lawyers and a judge.” Lucifer breathed in deeply. “I got there when they were taking away her body. She didn't have any family, I'm the one who had to plan her funeral for her.” 

“Her marks were the most on you?” He nodded. “I'll have you know, John doesn't have as many as you. More simple, I guess.”

Lucifer chuckled gently, the sound was smooth – like honey. “Are you calling me complicated?” 

“You are the devil, aren't you?”

His scowl was once more a grin.


End file.
